


Multiverse of Chaos

by ofathena



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 06:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofathena/pseuds/ofathena
Summary: every single fic I've posted on carriefish-er!
Relationships: Reader/Everyone
Kudos: 2





	1. bucky x reader - mistletoe!

Okay, so it may have started out as a bit of a joke. You’d seen all those cringe-worthy Christmas movies in which the super special(read super awkward) white couple just happened to find themselves under a sprig of mistletoe and bam! kiss time. Usually, such led to the confession of feelings, more kissing, a lil bedroom action and then, eventual dating. So in your eyes, mistletoe was the catalyst that was going to bring you and your one true, albeit unknowing, love, Bucky Barnes, together. 

Well, possibly slightly knowing. 

The two of you flirted, well you flirted with everyone, but with Barnes, there was a genuine intention to it and though you were unsure if he reciprocated genuinely, the two of you got along almost instantly from the moment he was bought back into the compound, you had similar interests and senses of humour as well as that you were both shitty sleepers and thus often spent nights on the balcony talking and watching the stars. 

Let me set the scene. 

It’s a few days into December and it’s snowing, looking like a white Christmas straight out of fairytales. You were out Christmas shopping with Wanda and Sam, you were the three amigos and did absolutely everything together, present shopping included when you spied a small vendor selling what looked like small red grapes with spiky leaves attached. However, upon reading the sign, you discover that in fact, that is the fabled mistletoe. 

“Barnes has no chance,” Sam mutters ruefully to Wanda as you gleefully purchase several sprigs, just in case someone decides to sabotage your Kissmas plans, tucking the small plants into your bag with a mental note of where they are, just in case you have to dive into your bag later and accidentally injure the sprigs. You’d already killed two Poinsettia, one named Bob and another who remained nameless, he’d barely lived before Sam had accidentally knocked the plant out the window when he was testing Red Wing’s flying ability. You had cried for a good five minutes, though turned the waterworks fully on when Bucky stumbled in, bleary-eyed and confused as to why you were sobbing out the window. Sam had tried to explain but Bucky had snapped at you to stop being ridiculous and that you’d scared him half to death. 

You weren’t sure what you’d flung at him but the temper tantrum that ensued was something you were, on the surface, not proud of, but in reality, you were thoroughly amused, though hurt that Bucky had been so rude to you. You did not forgive easily though several Semifreddi's and a few glasses of Pinot later, you were feeling a lot more generous and he’d apologised then for snapping. You’d heard him later tell Steve when Steve asked why you had forgiven him, that you’d scared him by thinking something was really wrong or that someone(Sam) had hurt you and he’d panicked and nearly lost it at Sam(oops). 

So not your fault. But this, this was a little way of revenge as well as you wanting to establish how you felt about him, without forcing him into a situation that he was uncomfortable with and through the next few days, you forced the entire Avenger group to watch mistletoe themed movies, surprising Steve, Natasha and Wanda with mistletoe over the course of those days. 

And finally, it was Christmas Eve and you were so excited. Santa, aka Tony, was visiting tonight, with presents galore and you were all staying up late watching Christmas movies, you’d voted for Home Alone and Clint had backed you, quite strongly so there was a possibility that you would get your choice however Clint had gone home yesterday, taking with him the small parcel of mistletoe for Laura you’d packed in with the other gifts for his three kids, Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel. You had a prime position on one of the bigger couches, you were in a reindeer jumpsuit with fluffy socks on and Steve had collapsed beside you, though there was still room on the other end of the couch but you weren’t moving for anybody, except maybe Bucky. 

Stark began playing to the movie, Loki and Thor both instantly transfixed and with a soft cheer, you recognised Home Alone. 

It was almost the middle of the movie when Bucky snuck in, a dark shape against the bright TV and you moved your feet instantly, clearing a spot for him, which he slipped into with a murmured thank you. He didn’t remark when you returned your legs to his lap, instead his fingers skimmed your ankles, causing goosebumps to prickle up your shoulders and back and you shiver, noting the smirk that curls at his lip and you want both to smack him and kiss him. Instead, you sink further back against the couch arm, burrowing into the cushion as Kevin’s shopping falls straight through the bags. 

It’s a near hour later when everyone starts to move off to bed that you strike. Bucky has headed to the kitchen, presumably for some water and, grabbing your sprig of mistletoe, you creep after him. He is indeed getting water, leaning against the bench with the glass loose in his hand and his eyes closed against the glaring kitchen lights, clearly, some people had no idea how to use a dimmer and you sneak up in front of him. 

“Boo,” you murmur, though you know he’s aware of your presence, you can smell your own perfume and if you can smell it, so can he, as well as the fact that he is indeed a trained assassin and probably can hear the rest of the squad moving in their separate rooms and floors, let alone right in front of him. 

“Y/n,” he says lazily, opening his eyes, only to be greeted by you, a smug expression on your face eyeing the mistletoe you’ve taped to the top of a Santa hat, it’s just higher than he is tall to your triumphant smirk. Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he fights a smile and you kink an eyebrow at him, daring him to proceed or try to avoid. And then he’s leaning forward, his lips slightly cool against your own and he’s kissing you and everything is silver and gold as you close your eyes, the backs of your eyelids seared with the imprint of his face. His fingers, one metal and one flesh, weave into your hair, disturbing the hat slightly, you can feel it sliding, teetering backwards but his fingers still it as he presses you against the fridge, making it so you’re between a fridge and a hard place. Your legs wrap almost of their own accord around his waist, as he hoists you up higher, his kiss deepening and you catch his lip between your teeth in a daring move and slowly open your eyes, meeting his as you separate. 

“I’ve been meaning to try that since we met if I’m totally honest,” he mumbled, a sheepish look flashing across his features and your mouth lifts mischievously. “Well, better make up for lost time then baby,” you singsong. And by the stars, did you make up for it.


	2. thor x reader - haircut woes

“What if she doesn’t like it?” Thor’s line of questioning had driven Barton to clench his fists over his eyes, incited Bucky and his partner Samantha to vanish into the compound and for provoked Natasha and Wanda to exchange yet another frustrated look with Sam and Erin, both of whom looked more interested by the artwork Steve was painting in front of them, they were more invested in watching paint dry than Thor’s haircut woes. 

You, notably absent, were the cause of his lamenting. Thor, a recent arrival, along with Loki, two striking women, the aforementioned Erin and Valkyrie, her partner and a disheveled Banner, whom Tony and Fury had instantly pulled aside for questioning, had arrived not long after you had left, with the intent of visiting a close friend and Thor, though he was strangely glad for your current absence, was very excited to see you again. He was glad for your absence for the sole reason that he was terrified of your reaction to his new haircut. You had loved his long hair, you played with it constantly, occasionally braiding it back or otherwise just toying with it, or in more behind closed door manners, clutching and tugging at the long golden strands. 

In Thor’s absence, you had targeted Bucky, to Samantha’s chagrin as he often came back from training with elaborate french braids or Legolas-Esque plaits. Speaking of Bucky, when Thor had seen him earlier, he was currently rocking several elaborate Dutch braids, of which Samantha and Tony were teasingly calling him “the Mother of Dragons,” a title which confused Thor greatly as Bucky was neither female nor was there dragons within Midgard, nor could such creatures be borne by a mere human. 

“She'd like you if you were bald Thor, I don't think your haircut woes are the greatest of your problems when it comes to y/n.” Barton sounded somewhat more patient than he looked, though internally he was plotting murder. Where the hell were you? Was it too much to ask that you actually be here to babysit your godly manchild of an almost-boyfriend? He honestly wished he'd headed upstate earlier if only to avoid Thor’s existential crisis. 

Well, not exactly existential but in Thor’s eyes, it seemed dire, as though his very happiness rested on you liking his hair. It was, in the most aggravating way, kinda cute, Barton had to admit. You were a bright presence within the team, as was Thor and recently, due to his absence, your light had seemingly diminished, until they had word that Thor was Earthbound and then you had lit up like some kinda human Christmas tree. Tony had been amused though everyone was more or less relieved, you were usually a ball of energy and after Thor’s disappearance you'd been worried, more so than most of the team as though neither of you would ever admit it, you had kinda more or less become a power couple, an unofficial one but seemingly the perfect match, though you now vied for cutest couple against Bucky and Samantha and Erin and Valkyrie. 

Thor was a large presence and though you had a big personality, you were much easier to deal with and coincidentally, when Thor was around you he calmed down enough that he was much easier to handle. Tony said he was like a walking piece of testosterone and you were thoroughly amused by that, though also secretly pleased in that Thor made an effort not to be a tosser within your immediate presence. Speaking of you, you were on your way up to the compound where your friends were residing when Bucky and Samantha caught up with you, practically dragging you into a side corridor, much to your surprise. “Whoa, whoa, what's the big idea?” You drawl out, prompting Samantha to roll her glitter lined eyes. 

“Thor is driving everyone insane with his worrying. He's had a haircut and is seemingly terrified you won't like it, not that there's much you can do about it now, but please by kind. He's driving me round the twist and he's been back a mere few hours,” Bucky sniggered at his girlfriend’s harassed chagrin, though he flinched as she drove a teasing elbow into his stomach and she writhed playfully as he nipped at her neck, causing you to roll your eyes at their kinda nauseating, kinda adorable antics. They were low key the kinda couple you aspired to be like, there was a gentle understanding between them that you had failed to bridge with Thor, and it turned both a scarred Soldier/assassin and a badass Amazonian Esque warrior from kinda intimidating to small fluffy persons, both of whom you had individually grown close to.

“He's also missing an eye, but he hasn't started worrying about that yet so maybe don't bring it up,” a frown sprawled across your features, the hell had Thor been up to when he'd been roaming the galaxy? You began to stride in the direction of the living quarters, a high pitched giggle behind you signalling that it was time for you to vacate the area for fear of intruding on a private moment. You also envied Erin and her partner, Valkyrie. They literally finished each other's sentences and could communicate in looks, and though Erin seemed the softer, gentler of the two, you had come to realise that she was strong, strong in ways you wished you were. 

Valkyrie, despite her previous reliance of alcohol, seemed permanently sobered within Erin's presence and you saw how much the warrior relied on the smaller girl, there was a balance between them, a harmony that seemed impossible to match. You slip into the dining area, Steve was painting and with a smile, you recognised his partner, Chloe’s eyes peering out at you from the canvas and then you had walked into the living area. 

Many pairs of eyes flashed to you and a shy smile grew into a bright beam as you took in the most beautiful of gods. Thor was somewhat taller than you remembered and indeed was missing a fair bit of his hair and his right eye, a sight that made your knees both turn to jelly but also your stomach to tighten. Flinging yourself into his embrace, you tried hard not to cry, your poor Thor had been through so much and you were suddenly faced with the realisation that you could have actually lost him. Your grip tightened slightly, his hands warm and solid on your back and hip and his lips against your shoulder. 

God you had missed him, missed the way he smelled, like rain and like something completely otherworldly. His hair, which you had your fingers in, was as soft as you remembered it but it was so odd, him having such short hair. You didn't hate it, no, but it would take some getting used to, especially bedroom wise, though you were wiser to say as such. 

“I've missed you,” you whisper to him, and his light squeeze on your ass signals that he has indeed heard you and then you allow him to set you back on your feet with a soft smile now spreading across his beautiful face. He pulls you into his side in a possessive fashion and you lean into his warmth, you had missed this, you had missed him, his voice, the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he smelt and the way happiness became him. 

He joins you later, after a long dinner with Tony making too many drunken speeches though it passed quickly, Thor told you stories and you became well acquainted with Erin and Valkyrie, who is almost more PDA than Bucky and Samantha, though you and Thor are fast coming for the title, his hand lingering on your thigh, knee, arm, wherever he can be touching you without physically holding you. You've changed into something comfortable, with a deep v of a neckline as you enjoy the way his eyes burn into your chest when you wear anything low cut. He practically falls into the bed beside you, the familiar routine, as you flick on a movie, his head coming to rest on your shoulder and he occasionally presses a kiss to your throat, though for the duration of the movie, he seems to be relatively focused on the screen, which is not unusual for him. 

“I love the new look by the way,” you tell him quietly and you see a brilliant smile brighten his face as he pulls you closer, leaning up to kiss your forehead gently. 

“Thank you, my love. I was most worried that you would not take to it, especially given the amount of change my appearance has undergone-” you stop him with a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up as he deepens the kiss, rolling over so he's on top of you, though none of his weight is. You look up unto his face as you separate from the embrace, both of you are breathing hard and you lean up to kiss him again briefly. 

“Thor, baby, I am not concerned with your appearance as you believe, I am merely grateful that you returned to me alive. I was worried out of my brain and hearing nothing from you; it drives me insane. I missed your presence, I missed you, don't believe that anything so superficial could ever stop me from loving you, my God,” a teasing smirk peaks your lips and Thor kisses you fiercely, still leaning above you and then, when he pulls away, you watch him wet his lips. 

“You, my love, are the only person that need not respect that status, I want you to know that. We are equals, you and I. Ey.” The Norse word meant nothing to you, but god it sounded nice rolling off his tongue. So instead you smile, curling into his side and allowing him to wrap his arms tightly around you, the muscle a familiar pressure and god, you had missed that. But now, though he wasn't exactly the same, you had your beautiful, gentle god of thunder back. And you wouldn't trade that for the world.


	3. m'baku x reader - sweet peach

For you, the idea of finding your soulmate, your eternal lover, was not an intrinsic part of your life and journey, it just wasn’t necessary. Sure, it’d be nice to have what many others within Wakanda had but for you, it seemed hopeless. You knew everyone similar to your age if not by face then by name, you had leafed through countless documents trying to compare the symbol on your wrist to that of those within 10 years of you, though to no avail. 

The failed idea of the soulmate thus had pushed you into training, harder and harder until the Dora Milaje took notice of you, in particular, the general Okoye, a woman you both looked up to and feared. She had a daunting presence, of which you soon found to be a pretence, she was much more than she let on and though it took you a while to get to the softer side of the general, when you broke through you wondered how she’d ever truly intimidated you.

Compared to the rest of the guard, which you trained with, but did not join, the life of a Dora Milaje was not for you, you were more solid, though a lot of it indeed became muscle, you were still much curvier than your friends. They never, however, made you feel ostracised for your misgivings about how much bigger than the rest of them were, but these women became your family and in Wakanda, the judgment of other people was reserved to internal, for which you were grateful as others misgivings tired and bored you. When you were younger, it had never occurred to you that you were any different from your friends, never had you pondered if in some way, you were unique. 

Then, when bathing, you had noticed that all of your closest friends were all shaped a similar way and for quite a few of them, you recalled being able to see their ribs. No one had commented on your shape but it was when you began to wonder why you’d never been able to clearly see your ribs, why your hips and bum stuck out far more than theirs and why you had to wear several tightly laced brassieres when training because your breasts moved a hell of a lot more than any of theirs. Not that it mattered to you but you had struggled initially with yourself, your internal conflict had sometimes got the better of you and you recalled crying to your mother because you didn’t want to be different, you wanted to be the same and like your friends and not have to wear lots of brassieres because they were uncomfortable. But your mama, ever the wise, gentle goddess, had assured that you were not that different, made a little rounder but still perfect and beautiful and soft. And soft, not a word you’d associated with yourself before, became your blanket because you were soft and hard at the same time, you were made of muscle like a jaguar but you were also soft as peach skin. 

But when Killmonger became king, for the briefest of times, you realised that for now, Wakanda needed the hard for a bit and the soft could take a seat. You didn’t like this so-called king, didn’t like that Okoye seemed outwardly uncaring of T’challa’s death and you loathed that she was hiding how distraught she was as she ordered you to accompany Shuri, Queen Ramonda, the white man and Princess Nakia, to where, you were not sure but she begged you to keep them safe. Granted, you knew Shuri could fend for herself, as could Nakia but the recently healed white man and Queen Ramonda were your biggest concerns, the queen hadn’t needed to be able to fight for quite a time and though she was far from rusty, you still needed to account for both of them. The mountain pass that Shuri started up was the winding way to the Jabari tribe’s position in the snow-capped mountains, Nakia cupping the heart-shaped herb as you followed in the rear, trying to keep alert as snow began to rain down and melt on your hair and scarf. 

Nakia’s teeth had begun to chatter when you placed a fur around her shoulders, nodding at the princess as she smiled in gratitude, pulling the fur tightly around her. You found that though you could feel the sting of the wind, you weren’t as cold as you believed the others were, you had fewer layers but you felt the cold a whole lot less than Nakia clearly did. Even Shuri with her thermal heated suit was occasionally shuddering as cold snuck up her spine and you often found yourself encouraging them to keep moving through the ever-thickening snow. It was then that you saw a flash of movement within the trees and a low howl sent a wave of panic through you as you drew your spear up, as suddenly you found the small group surrounded, Nakia and Shuri raising weapons and the white man shrinking to your side, Queen Ramonda fighting to keep the panic from her face at the Jabari raised spears to push you into a small circle. 

One of them must have recognised the royalty because another howl went up as they finished chanting and then formed two lines to box you in as they began to march towards the entrance where torches burned bright against the snow. The group hurried you in as the wind began to pick up and a gust of it followed you inside, ruffling your hair and cloak as you found yourself in what appeared to be a throne room. Your eyes flashed around, remembering Okoye’s training; know your surroundings, take note of anything that can be used as a weapon and then you looked ahead towards the throne as your eyes widened. 

There, sitting on the throne, was a man that made you nearly stop dead but everything else pushed you forwards as you noted the armed men behind you. He had dark eyes and hair, the stance in which he leaned on the throne was something that was almost cocky but also confident, which intimidated and strangely enough, aroused you. He had full lips and was taut with muscle as well as having thick thighs and wide shoulders, his biceps bulging and all in all, he cut a strong figure, one of which you could barely keep your eyes off. His eyes lingered on you, though you didn’t notice as you fought to keep your eyes on your quarry, the princesses both radiated powerful energy as they spoke, though you couldn’t focus on their words, all you could think of was the powerful man leaning on the throne. 

M’baku, you recalled his name from the ceremony, T’challa had beaten him but allowed him to live, Shuri told you. You hadn’t been allowed to attend as you had personal matters to take care of out of the city, but now you wished you had seen him in action, even in defeat he would have been beautiful. The sound of monkey chants drew you from your thoughts, startling you slightly and you noted brief amusement splash M’baku’s face at your reaction, he seemed to have noticed you were not listening to the goings-on and seemed amused by your inattentiveness. 

“I have something to show you,” He declared and goddess, his voice was like the spicy hot chocolates Okoye made you on cool days. You could just about swim in it and you found beneath your brassiere, your nipples had hardened to stiff points, which he also indeed seemed to notice, a gleeful expression splashing his features as he strode past you, his eyes appraising you as you followed him down a flight of stairs, the temperature dropping as you descended. 

“What is a sweet ipesika like you doing in my city?” The low tomber of his voice, compared to his early snapping, startled you, there was a gentleness to it that startled you as you raised your head slightly to look him in the eyes.

“I came with my queen to protect her, as ordered by the general of the Dora Milaje,” Your voice sounds toneless to your own ears but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s staring at your face and when you move to slick your hair back, his fingers grasp at your wrist, turning it over and pushing the sleeve back to reveal the mark glowing on your wrist. The smile glances over his face as he lowers his wrist to beside your own and you let out the softest hiss as you notice the matching mark on his arm. 

“Impossible,” You breath, your chest suddenly tight as you stare up at him, surprise adorning your features as everything seems to begin to slow down. For a moment it’s just the two of you and then he’s taking your hand and you’re following him as he leads you and the party into an open room, where snow is packed into a pile over- 

“T’challa!” Nakia breathes at the same time Shuri hisses aloud.

“Why do you have him?” She snarls, her eyes challenging as she glares at M’baku, you fight a wave of protectiveness as she takes a stance against your soulmate, her eyes glistening with rage and relief.

“A fisherman found him washed into one of his nets and brought him back here. The snow is the only thing keeping him alive and in a coma, so I suggest not moving him,” M’baku is calm and his fingers are still gripping yours and though you are distracted by T’challa, you are very aware of his presence. As Nakia feeds T’challa that herb, Ramonda’s eyes briefly wander to your hands and she nods at you, eyes warm as she turns back to her son. She understands and for that you’re grateful. 

It’s later, when T’challa is bathing that you manage to find yourself and M’baku alone. He’s gentle, despite his initial harshness and you find that the two of you are indeed two halves of the same fruit, though you have your differences, you seem to be of the same mould. He also seemed to enjoy your size, something that was startling to you. You found, as the evening wore on, he liked your thighs and your ass, his eyes lingered on you figure in a way that made you wonder if he was undressing you with his eyes and in normal soulmate fashioning, you were to sleep in his bed that night. 

That unnerved you, you hadn’t grown up around men and though he was indeed your soulmate, you were nervous for him to see you sans most clothes. You bathed before bed, finding he left out his own clothes for you to change into and when you were down, hair in a scarf and skin wiped clear, you slipped back into his chambers. His bed was soft, scattered with furs and when he looked up, you watched his pupils blow wide with lust. Your legs were on display though you were covered on your top half, his eyes lingered there too. You were not uncomfortable under his gaze, you quite liked the way he looked at you and it made you feel quite powerful as you moved to the empty side the bed, his eyes following your every move.

“You’re the most delicious creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, ipesika,” His fingers linger on your cheek, sweeping down your shoulder and moving to rest on your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. He was very close to you, his breath warm and his entire body radiating heat. 

“I’d like to kiss you my love,” He says, his voice breathless and you leaned in before you could become too nervous. He kissed you sweetly, with soft lips and gentle hands moving to cup your ass and rub circles on your lower back and you arched into him, allowing the kiss to explode. When you have stopped kissing each other, you found you were both breathless, his chest heaving and her nipples again peaking. He smirked at that, his fingers moving to brush her breasts in the faintest of touches and she struggled to keep a moan of pleasure contained and his smirk widened before he leaned to press a kiss to your lips briefly as he doused the lights. 

You settled into the bed, the sheets smelled masculine and spicy like he did and goddess was it comfortable. He rolled you over to tuck you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist, his fingers brushing your hips delicately as he pressed a kiss to the space behind your ear. 

“When I go to fight tomorrow, I fight for you my sweet ipesika. Because you are mine and mine alone and the only thing deserving of going to war for,” You glow at his words, tilting your head back to kiss him one last time before you curl into him and allow his warmth to envelope you in the sweetest sleep you can remember. The celebrations that followed the victory and T’challa’s return were immense. 

You weren’t sure you’d ever been congratulated or hugged and kissed as much when you returned with the queen and princess, as well as a soulmate of the leader of the Jabari tribe. Some steered clear of you and you recognised their fear, M’baku was not the most friendly upon first meeting him, however he had a sense of humour that delighted you and he was sweeter on the inside than he’d probably like to admit. You’d sat with the Jabari for most of the celebrations and though T’challa had made it very clear that you were always welcome within Wakanda, you could already feel it. Most Wakandans had never really forgiven the Jabari for their desertion and though you could do nothing to sway their decisions, it was still taking a lot of getting used to. 

M’baku had told you that you could stay within Wakanda, that he wouldn’t stop you from going back to your old life but you already knew what you were going to do. There was no question about it. To leave your country, your home, your people and your king, it was unthinkable but to leave your soulmate for the sake of pride, that was something you couldn’t fathom. So as you sat on one of M’baku’s large thighs, watching the festivities whirl around you, a part of you began to wonder what your life would be like now.


	4. erik killmonger x reader - seriously?

You weren’t sure how you ended up in the middle of a battle, but by the goddess was it the most exhilarating and terrifying experience of your entire life. You were the handmaiden(read best friend) to the Princess Shuri and thus, you hadn’t needed to be trained in combat as such, Shuri had decided you were going to be a tester for her gadgets and so you just had to learn how to use the inventions Shuri created for you. Sometimes, that was easy, the blaster gauntlets she currently wielded were fun and almost simply to use but the flame sword currently decorating your weapons belt(you weren’t sure if it was a flame sword but Shuri had called it that once and you were too scared to ask what she meant) was decidedly heavy and thus remained in said belt as you sprinted behind Shuri and a recently changed Nakia. 

“C’mon c’mon we gotta go!” Shuri called back to you, you hadn’t been lagging but already your lungs had begun to burn, you weren’t unfit but running was definitely not your most favourite of activities and you wondered briefly if you’d be able to walk the next day. If you survived. 

“I’m moving as fast as I can! You go ahead, I’ll follow you,” You tell her, keeping anything remotely unpleasant from your voice, though you want to snap at her that this is above and beyond your call of duty. But, you will protect Shuri with your life and if you can’t stop her, you must join her.

T’challa often called you Little Mouse because despite your big personality, you were shy and more or less reclusive. Shuri did a lot of the talking for you, which you didn’t mind, she was like a sister and you shared most of your opinions, you thought similarly. Queen Ramonda often doted on you as she did her daughter, and when you’d questioned it, she told you she didn’t differentiate between the two of you, you were both inseparable and indistinguishable, which warmed you to think that the queen thought of you as a daughter.

Shuri was firing her gauntlets up, you heard the familiar energy hum as you pulled the spear from the strap across your spine, still running but slowly down more as the exit loomed in front of you and then Nakia and Shuri stopped, both of them moving into fighting stances. Then Nakia launched herself at someone you were yet to see and then as you stumbled to a stop beside Shuri you saw him, the usurper King, the one who’d fought and tried to kill T’challa. The one who called himself Killmonger. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen but you’d forced the attraction down, you hated what he’d down to T’challa and though it was the way, you could not forgive harm down to your brother and true King.

Nakia was thrown aside and Shuri swore, something her mother chided the two of you for but you’d said much worse without Ramonda hearing and Shuri began to fire energy at Killmonger who had begun to smirk beneath his mask. He was not smirking anymore however when you hurled your spear at him. It almost took him by surprise you realised, he hadn’t noticed you, or if he had, hadn’t recognised you as a threat. Well that was his mistake.

You bared your teeth, pulling the sword from its scabbard as Shuri nodded at you, both of you advancing with synchronised movements, Shuri’s gauntlets raised in front of her face as you tapped your energy shield up, raising your own gauntlet in front of your face. When he hit you, you almost collapsed under the power of the hit, your shield wavering and you groaned under the effort. Shuri hurled energy at him and you engaged him with your sword, managing to make contact several times whilst he was distracted before he went to fling Shuri backwards. You swore, slamming into him and shoving Shuri back and away from him. Killmonger looked almost startled by your appearance and then seemed to ground himself as he flicked his mask off for the briefest of moments, your eyes meeting as he raised his fist.

“Sorry darling, this might hurt,” And then you were airbourne and slamming into Shuri and then into the ground. You bounced against the earth and then tumbled down a hill, choking back a scream of pain before everything went dark.

When you open your eyes again, everything is white and for a moment, you panic, was this some form of afterlife? Then, there’s a soft noise to your right and you scrabbled to sit up, a sigh of relief bursting from your lips as you recognise the familiar lab setting. Shuri’s hurrying over as well as Erik, who you last remember punching you into oblivion, however though he looks a little worse for wear, he’s looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“Y/n, y/n, take it slowly,” Shuri instructs you, practically leaping to sit beside you on the bed and wrapping her arms carefully around you.

“I thought you died! We couldn’t wake you up and then Erik did a thing and then you were breathing again and I- I couldn’t help you,” She was crying you realised, hot tears were soaking the hospital gown covering your naked form. You pat her back gently, she seems more upset about you nearly dying than you are but it’s nice to have someone care.

“It’s okay Shu, I’m alive and I’m here now, I’m here,” Erik is watching the two of you with a soft expression on his face, he looks both guilty and relieved. You stretch out a hand to him then, it’s clear from him being here that Shuri’s comfortable with him not being a usurper and that he’s possibly a friend now. He takes your hand, relief spilling onto his face and you smile gently at him, trying to radiate that you forgive his actions. You know people do what they must and you don’t hold a grudge against his actions. However, you will not forget what he has done, though his intentions were in his mind good, and in all honesty, in your mind also good, you know he endangered the security of your homeland.

It took awhile for you to come around. It started with little touches; to your hands and wrists, then to your waist, he’d brush a hand along your cheek gently. Erik would wrap an arm around your shoulders, and then his hands would fall to your hips and to your lower back and finally, though occasionally, his hands would brush your ass, more playfully than any of the other touches. He would knock your shoulder when you passed each other in hallways, you’d spin around and he’d wink as you’d laugh. He’d come up behind you when you were focused on something and wrap his arms around your waist, letting his head fall heavily on your shoulder as he surrounded you in warmth and that spicy scent that always clung to him.

He introduced you to movies, real ones, not the ones Shuri played, old movies with long-dead actresses and actors, with old English that both confused and amused you. You quickly became friends, then more than friends but both of you were too shy to do anything about it, fearing rejection from the other and the idea of ruining such a friendship terrified you. He was like your other half, there wouldn’t be a full, complete-to-max-potential you without him because of all the memories and knowledge that the two of you shared. You’d come to rely on him with his witty banter and loud mouth and he relied on you with your snide comments and expressive face pulling.

Without him, you were the same person you’d always been but you couldn’t replace the way he made you feel. No one had ever made you feel this way before and it scared you. But you didn’t want to disrupt the friendship you’d worked so hard to build.

It was late evening, you had called it a night, bidding Shuri a goodnight and were trudging back to your room when you saw him. Erik was pacing, something he only did when he was frustrated and you wondered briefly if you should confront him about it but normally when he was like this, you couldn’t get through to him. He had suffered trauma, unimaginable trauma and though the knowledge of it helped you untangle the mess the comprised of Erik Killmonger, he was a puzzle. But he was also the person you were closest to, apart from Shuri, in your entire world. And he might need you.

You approached with caution, eyeing him wring his hands, then yank them up through his hair as he paced back and forth before catching sight of you and he slowed in his pacing, eyes meeting yours and you smiled the calm smile that you used when Shuri was being unreasonable and you were in public so you couldn’t tell her to stop being a bitch.

“Erik, honey bee are you okay? You only pace when you’re frustrated,” He brightens, knowing you’ve noticed this and you see that shy smile beginning to creep over his face. He’s adorable when he smiles, it makes his entire face so much softer.

“I’m okay, actually flower, I need to tell you something,” You raise an eyebrow, why is he telling you that he needs to tell you something? What kinda cliche bullsh- okay okay, we’re letting it happen. 

“Honey bee, you can tell me anything,” You say, taking his hands in yours and squeezing his fingers lightly in your own. He’s electric, his skin buzzing and you can feel certain energy practically radiating off of him.

“I’m in love with you,” His voice doesn’t waver so at first, you don’t process his words before your mouth falls open slightly.

“You waited this long to tell me? I’ve wanted to tell you for like a year! And I wanted to be the first one to say it!” You smack his chest lightly but allow him to wrap his arms around you tightly, as he presses a kiss to your forehead and though it feels familiar, to quote Beauty and the Beast, there's something there that wasn't there before.


	5. erik killmonger x reader - him?

Erik Killmonger was a fucking piece of shit and you were going to drop him on his ass so hard he’d see his ancestors. 

“Where is he?” Your voice sounds pitched even to you as you shove through the slowly gathering crowd, you can hear T’challa’s voice echoing and Erik is never far from his cousin dearest. You nearly snarl at that thought, because you know T’challa will protect him from your wrath because he is family after all and it makes you want to tear your hair out. Erik should have been held accountable for his waging war within Wakanda in the first place and then maybe he would have learned some goddess-damned respect because you sure as hell wasn’t about to teach him respect. No, no, you were about to teach him that little assholes who sabotage you, got what was coming to them sevenfold.

“Y/N!” Shuri had caught sight of you as you pushed through the crowd, her eyes bright until they catch sight of your expression and she shrinks back and away from your wrath. You tighten your grip on the inventory counter in your hand, shooting Shuri a wink in an attempt to comfort her as you spot him, T’challa is snarling something you can’t quite make out as you finally make it to the edge of the crowd.

“You motherfucking fuckhead!” Your voice and command of language always surprise others, you look as though you wouldn’t be able to raise your voice as such or use such foul language but Tony Stark had taught you words when you’d first met him and Bucky Barnes, one of yours and Shuri’s patients had also taught you just how to use the words to really burn people’s ears.

Thrusting the counter into the air, you wave it in a taunting manner before you pull your lips back in a snarl. Erik’s eyes meet yours and you watch his widen at your furious stance.

“It was an accident!!” He yelps, backpedalling quickly as he tries to vanish into the crowd but T’challa’s interest is piqued and he catches Erik’s arm in a tight grip.

“You fucking ran us out of lavender and chamomile! Unbelievable! You know we use those in healing right? They’re not just things to fling in your tea at random because you read that they’ll settle your stomach. Do you know how much cultivating and agricultural work I have to put in to keep those herbs happy in this climate?” T’challa’s eyes narrow at Erik, who has his hands up, his eyes wide. Clearly he didn’t either realise he was stealing from your personal store or that you had caught onto his antics.

“Erik, I understand you are not used to our medicinal uses for herbs but y/n and Shuri use them for more natural substitutes to other healing thus the plants that they tend to are sacred. If it’s true that you’ve picked the trees bare, then I must insist that you assist y/n in tending to the trees until they have enough to make into salves and everything else they use the leaves for,” T’challa is stern, fair but stern, his eyes unhappy and you know why. 

People are already calling that Erik doesn’t fit in Wakanda, that he has no place and you suppose your outburst hasn’t helped his case but you’re still vibrating slightly with fury. 

With a smirk that Shuri later describes as your petty face, you nod at T’challa, who nods back, inclining his head with a wink before you stroll back to the healing centre. You’re unhappy, even with this arrangement, because you know he’s also going to be unhappy and thus bring a bad mood when he comes down to help you out and though he’ll pay for his theft, you don’t see how it’s a suitable punishment, you just wanted the leaves back but no, King I Know Better let him get away with the leaves and now you have nothing. Unbelievable.

The first few times he comes down to the healing centre, he’s cold. Erik and you never saw eye to eye and now the chill between the two of you nearly gives an amused Shuri frostbite. But he hasn’t apologised and you’re not about to, instead of keeping busy tending to the lavender and chamomile plants with thoughtful energy. He is a large presence in your centre and when he eventually begins joining you in your lab, you realise just how much space he takes up. He’s all muscle and shoulders and ugh, it drives you around the bend.

It’s a while before you warm up to him, but honestly, the amount of time you spend with Erik makes it kinda hard to keep hating. Though for the first few weeks, neither of you talk much, you have inside jokes which don’t always require communication. Whether it’s leaving equipment in hilarious positions, something dropping and smashing loudly or just a weird plant fact one of you finds, it becomes a regular occurrence for Shuri to walk into the two of you giggling like five-year-olds, often over a disastrously chaotic mess of a lab.

When you begin to talk, all the time you spend together, you find out that Erik could talk underwater. He can talk for hours about nothing important, but somehow you’re always both amused by whatever it is he’s spouting stories about.

It surprises you how long it takes you to work out just why he needs the leaves. He doesn’t sleep well, which means he too often naps when he’s tending to the lavender which it what made you realise just why he was taking leaves. You got it out of him eventually, he was using them in tea and for aromatherapy purposes, which was smart, you guessed but you were annoyed. Mostly because he could have asked and just let you know that he had trouble sleeping, you probably wouldn’t have been as understanding but still, it was nice to now know he wasn’t just taking them for the sake of spiting you or T’challa. 

It was when you started hiding small packets of dried lavender and chamomile within his drawers and leaving small stems of it within his room that the possibility of another motive behind his actions came to you, but it was stupid right? You weren’t a child and thus it kinda wasn’t a thought but an imaginative idea but was there a possibility that he was taking them to get your attention? It was stupid yeah, but it didn’t pan out as to why he didn’t just ask about the leaves, it made sense if he didn’t ask because he was nervous to talk to you and when you mentioned it to Shuri, she gave you the most thoroughly bemused look you’d ever received from her but gave no comment, which made you entirely more nervous.

T’challa also laughed dryly when you mentioned it to him but also gave no advice on the matter, which led you to hope that you were maybe wrong, maybe right? Honestly, both options stressed you out immensely. You weren’t gonna ask him, what if he said no? What if he said yes? Like hell did you need that kinda confirmation. 

“What do I do about him? I can’t stop thinking about him and it's no longer because I think he’s a trash can but now, I wonder if he’s okay, if he’s sleeping well and if he wants to watch movies with me in the lab when we have nothing else to do,” You’re pouting to M’baku, you sit with his head in your lap as you rub tea tree into his hair, his dumbass had managed to get lice from one of his baboons and he’d come crying to you for some tea tree oil to help kill the lice off. He’s breathing heavily and you wonder if he’s dozed off, he’s very relaxed in your lap and with a heavy sigh, you realise he’s asleep.

It’s a moment later that Erik enters the lab, a basil plant cradled in his arms and he freezes as he catches sight of you almost trapped under M’baku. You widen your eyes at him, jerking your head towards M’baku and Erik puts down the basil plant to come and help you get M’baku off of you. With a soft groan, you roll out from beneath M’baku’s heavy skull, Erik practically having to catch you as your legs give way.

“Thank you so much, I half thought I’d be trapped forever,” You groan, hugging him without thinking and though he stiffens under your grip. He smells comfortingly like basil and lavender, which brings a soft smile to your face. 

“Do you wanna watch a movie later with me?” He blurts, both of you blinking at his words before a slow smile melts your startled expression.

“Y’know, I think I might have plans but I’ll let you know,” You tell him, a playful edge to your voice and he raises an eyebrow. You don’t have plans but you wanna make him work for it.

“But you just-” You press a finger to his lips to shush him, before yanking your hand back as he licks your finger.

“Nah uh, you gotta play by my rules buddy, I’ll come by your room later and maybe you can take me to dinner, how does that sound?” He grins then before you lean up and kiss his cheek quickly, winking at him as you turn to stride away, watching him watch your ass as you do so. Goddess, he’s cute when he gets all puppy dog-like but damn right are you gonna make him play by your rules.

He’s true to his word, you drop by his room and he’s ready and waiting and you know you look good but you act flustered when he tells you just how good you look. It becomes a game quickly, once he realises how easily you blush and throughout the evening, he makes it his job to make you blush and to make you flustered. 

“You look edible,” He tells you during the walk down to the dining room.

“Your ass has its own moon orbiting it because it’s out of this world,” He whispers into your ear as the two of you are seated.


	6. thor x reader - nsfw

“I want to fuck a God,” There was an explosive noise as a startled Wanda expelled the vodka raspberry that she had previously been chugging, Maria, mid-eye-roll, hit her sharply on the back to ease the spluttering.

“You need religion. What the hell are you thinking, blurting that out into existence in a bar, surrounded by leering macho men, many of whom would give their souls for a night with your delicious ass,” Natasha was already bored with your tipsy antics. You weren’t drunk, though you were gearing to become as such. You also had the unfortunate, or perhaps it was fortunate luck to be quite candor once you began to drink, meaning your startling outburst was the first of many.

You pouted then, urging more eye-rolls from Maria and Natasha but Wanda has a wild smile blooming. She’s tipsy too and all too aware of where the eyes of one of her more fabled teammates have come to rest. You were a civilian, you were also a foreigner, meaning that the Avengers and their reputation weren’t even of your knowledge. Which made you perfect for befriending. Wanda usually tried to steer clear of her teammates heads but tonight, Thor’s thoughts were very loud, the entire Avengers team knew of his crush on you, though none of them would ever breathe a word of it to you in fear of the god’s wrath but tonight, Wanda was feeling a little more daring than usual.

“You should go dance with Thor, I hear he’s quite god-like in bed,” Wanda teased, Nat and Maria sharing a look briefly, they knew stopping you would draw attention to the situation, unnecessarily so but they didn’t know what Wanda did. Wanda knew that you returned Thor’s affections, but you thought the god didn’t really like you very much and thus you tended to keep to yourself around him, which made Thor anxious and more likely to avoid you. It was a dangerous cycle that Wanda disliked to intervene in for fear of upsetting the both of you.

Wanda knew she was playing a dangerous game but she’d watched both of you struggle with your feelings long enough and she needed to know that her powers had finally been used for good. Pushing you slightly, she nudged you towards the unknowing God of Thunder, who threw Wanda a slightly helpless look as you slipped into his arms. 

“Hi, Thor! I like your hair! Wanda says you’re the god of sex and I’m looking for a god in bed. I also think you’re stunningly gorgeous and would honestly marry you in a hot second if you asked but irrelevant,” This revelation made Thor blink and his eyes widen. That as possibly more honesty than he’d been prepared for. He also needed to know that this wasn’t drunk you speaking, that this was actually stemming from some truth that you’d been hiding. 

“How much have you had to drink dear one?” He asked, trying to calm the sudden erratic beating of his heart. 

“Not enough. Don’t worry pretty boy, I’m perfectly in control,” You wobbled slightly, demonstrating practically the opposite but his hands were around your waist then and they were warm and solid, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into his warmth as you began to dance, your bodies occasionally pressing together as you moved in and out of his arms. The sexual tension between the two of you was dazzling and Wanda continued to drink throughout the night to her success, Natasha and Maria eventually conceding to her actions once they got a look at just how happy you were in Thor’s arms and just how happy he was to have you there.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” You sing-song at Thor, a slow song droned on and you were now swaying slightly in his arms, as though adrift at sea. His face breaks in a smile, a warm blush spreading across his cheeks as you rest your head against his chest, his chest vibrating slightly against your ear as he zaps you very gently, with what you think is static but he knows better. And then the music is back and the two of you are jumping, the friction between you sending electricity surging up your spine and Thor has to pause because he’s not totally sure that’s just from your chemistry.

And when you both end up back at your apartment, pulling at each other's clothing and he stills briefly as his hands glide up around your waist as he jumps you up only to slam you back against the wall to crush his mouth against yours and you feel him still and you open your eyes to stare into his mismatched gaze. And he knows. He knows you want this, that you’ve wanted it for as long, if not longer than he has and you wanted him now.

“Are you ready for this? You can always say no, we could go back to normal, we’d be fine-” You kiss him, softer and sweeter than before.

“I want you Thor, all of you,” Your voice sounds husky, even to you, almost Natasha being seductive husky and you are both breathless. And then you are one again as with an animalistic fierceness he catches your mouth with his own.

You land on your bed, a tussle of sheets as you scoot up them, you’re still in panties but your bra is long discarded and you can feel his eyes on your tits, a hunger you had yet to discover in him gleaming in his eyes. 

“Lie down,” Your voice is quieter than you anticipated but it works, everything about him is stiff with anticipation, yes, everything and you move to hover over him, propping yourself up so you loom above him. You press your mouth to his briefly, teasingly as you begin to work your way downward, setting nerve endings on fire as you do. First, your mouth grazes his pectorals, his nipples peaking as you whisper your lips over his naked chest before you’re moving downward again, your fingers coming down to tug at his boxers before you free his erection, his cock springing free. 

At the sight of it, your pussy aches and a thrill shoots up your stomach, alighting you on fire as you struggle to contain the carnivorous hunger you feel towards the beautiful man. You want him, more than you’ve ever wanted anyone or anything before and you know that though you’ll be satisfied with having him, to let him go would destroy you. You’ve barely tasted him and already you’re yearning for more and it frightens you, the vast hunger that has erupted inside you.

You move again, still lower as your hands grab at his thighs, not even making it halfway around they’re that thick as you kitten lick the tip of his cock. The noise he makes tells you he’s about as wanted as you and thus you begin to kitten lick your way from top to bottom of his gorgeous cock, one hand moving to occasionally squeeze at his balls. This incites a groan that makes you somewhat wetter, you’re unsure how at this point you could be any more but clearly, it’s possible with this specimen. 

When you wrap your mouth around it, his hands move instantly to grip at your hair, his fingers massaging against your scalp as you take him as far as you can go before you’re choking on his length, your throat constricting and he moans again. You pull away from him, strings of saliva falling and you huff a breath before he’s moving, flipping you onto your back as he presses you back into the bedsheets, his mouth attaching briefly to your nipples as he squeezes your breasts in his large hands. You buck against him, moaning and writhing at his touch and you can feel his smirk against your stomach as he moves lower, like you did, ripping your, luckily cheap not VS panties off and then his mouth is on you. You’re lucky he has your legs somewhat pinned down because the moment his tongue makes contact with your clit, you’re bucking up against him and though his hold on you is firm, he doesn’t break contact with your pussy.

“Oh mio dio,” You moan out, a phrase which captures his interest briefly though he puts it aside to ask you the meaning later though he has a fair idea you just called him a god.

First he slides a single digit in, making you arch again as he curls said finger, practically making you convulse as stimulation drives you wild before his other hand finds a rhythm on your clit and everything is happening at once. You can feel an orgasm brewing, sweet and not far off the brink as he continues his pace, before you feel it like a wave crashing over you, your finger entangling in the sheets as you arch backwards, gasping for breath as your orgasm erupts.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” And then he’s sliding into you, burying all of his cock inside you with a grunt that shakes the bed. You’re practically delirious from your orgasm, head thrown back and pupils blown wide as the two of you move in synchronisation, your sweat-soaked bodies moving in tandem before with a final gasp, he spills himself inside you. His blue eye glows electric blue in the darkness, soft light that you’re not sure if you’re imagining but you’ve begun to put it all together, you’re not entirely ignorant and though it doesn’t upset you that they’ve technically lied by omission, you yearn for more knowledge. But for now, that doesn’t matter. You have what you want and now that he’s yours, you’re content with that.

Neither of you feels like untangling from the current mess of limbs you’re in, instead you return to his chest as both of you try to regulate your breathing. You begin to sink into sleep and as you do, he speaks, his chest vibrating as he does.

“What does mio dio mean? I know it’s not English,” You smile tiredly, he was paying attention.

“It means you in Italian; well it means my god but semantics,” He tenses slightly and you roll over to face him for the briefest of moments.

“Il mio dio. I know you have your secrets and I have mine, maybe we can explore them another time but for now, I want you to be the God of Slumber, not Thunder,” He chuckles at your words, pressing a kiss to your temples before you both sink into a satisfied slumber.


	7. tony stark x reader - angst

“You know sometimes, I dunno if I can actually help you Tony, you fucking reject all my efforts, you make it hard enough to begin with and then you just try and fuck everything else up around it. I don’t think you can be saved, I know I’m not allowed to say that, but I don’t think you can. There’s no light left in you and if there is, whatever’s in that flask is helping to dimish it,” There’s a venomous note in your voice that you have trouble hiding, the spite in your tone a weapon you’ve been longing to use. He didn’t flinch though, your words do not make purchase on his thickened proverbial skin and you want, more than anything, to see them take effect. To see him actually have a reaction, to feel anything from something you’ve said. But he remained cold, indifferent and remote, as a distant star and you glare at him through the tears blurring your vision. He was lost, a cause you could no longer aid and strengthen and, dare you say it, love. You could not help him any further, your guardianship was only supposed to be guidance and you had stepped way, way beyond that. Though you would not be punished, it irked you that you’d spent so much time on a lost cause. 

Angel guards, under the law of light, were only allowed to remain with their selected human for a few months or less, and so far, nearly four years had passed. To be chosen by a guard at all was a privilege, though it meant that one’s lifeline had descended so dramatically towards the Fates and their snippy scissors, that the light had had to intervene and you, one of the oldest of the order, were rarely recommended to be matched with a human.

Tony Stark, the tech billionaire and playboy slut, hadn’t really seemed like somebody who needed assistance of the angelical kind and had rebutted your efforts at first and it had almost been enough for you to decide to allow a more patient guard to relieve you, until Tony had had a breakdown in front of you, so dramatically and out of the blue that it had honest to the gods startled you, you! You weren’t a novice, you were used to crazy humans, but this one, he was different. He was crazier and more damaged and suddenly, things had gotten a lot more interesting; for a 2,318-year-old archangel, who spent most of your time at current wondering how you were eventually going to cark it, this was a fresh turn of events. And you’d seen A Lot of events.

You didn’t really like mortals very much. They withered away too quickly, and too often did you find them falling in love with you. You did love Tony though. Oh, Freya did you love that mess of a mortal more than you loved the sun itself. It was a heavy, jealous love that made you almost tremble to think of it but in the beginning, it had been the most glorious thing you’d had the pleasure to be apart of. Tony, as was per usual for Tony, had begun the relationship in an odd enough way, after you’d been assigned to him and made it clear you would be attempting to course-correct his path, he had decided that he wanted to get drunk to try and come to terms with his sudden enlightenment of the light. He’d told you straight up that you were the most exquisite being he’d ever seen, which was a standard compliment and then told you he wanted to fuck you. You had ever so daintily told him to go fuck himself and he’d mumbled about going to do just that before he fell over a balcony. You’d torn ligaments in your wings diving to catch him, as he’d struggled against you and you’d been tempted to drop him, but that was not an unusual feeling, upon meeting Rhodey and Sam, you’d discovered that it was a normal incentive around Tony. He’d introduced you to said friends as ‘angel girl,’ and you’d never really been able to shake the nickname, though you didn’t mind, you didn’t think either of them knew the truth behind Tony’s teasing. 

Currently, you lay sprawled atop Tony’s lap, his fingers loosening the tight braids ribbing your hair as he took another swig of the aforementioned flask before he handed it down to you, pressing it to your lips and you swallowed the bitter liquid. You disliked Earth liquor, unlike ambrosia it left one nauseated and minus a few brain cells, where ambrosia simply elevated one’s mental state, almost like weed but with a more tangible effect, one that left reality dazzled. You’d tried to introduce Tony to it several times but apparently it lacked the hard reality of Earth liquor and so another one bit the dust.

“Y’know, for an angel, you’re really fucking mean,” There was no conviction in Tony’s voice, it was a mere comment to which you rolled your eyes, turning your head to look away from his face. Something in your gut was winding tighter and tighter, making your stomach ache slightly and sitting up slowly, the feeling increased and you grimaced, pressing a hand to your abdomen. Tony’s eyes tracked your movements, a frown deepening the lines on his face. He gripped your arm briefly, a question unasked but you shook your head, more confused than anything else.

You had another few millennia to thrive, why was something like this happening now? You’d heard of symptoms like this before and unease was currently turning your stomach into acid. Guardian death could be triggered by a prolonged presence on Earth but you were old enough that it shouldn’t affect you, as well as the fact that you were still with a mortal, that should counteract the symptoms, which were fast increasing as pain wrung at your insides.

Standing slowly, you kept a palm pressed to your stomach, a strange expression crossing your face, breaking your calm facade and then Tony was catching you as the world slipped. 

“Woah, that’s weird,” Your voice cracked slightly, giving way to the sudden fear you were feeling inside. Your wings were feeling suddenly languid, as though they’d been drenched in tar, heavy and lacklustre. Your fingers clawed at your shoulders, where your wings drooped and suddenly your fingers were coated in feathers. The sound that squawked from your mouth was both inhuman and laced with a fearful wail, enough to startle Tony into setting you down as you scrabbled at your back with bleeding fingers.

“y/n, no! Leave it, you’ll hurt yourself!” Tony attempted to restrain you but it was too late, you knew. You knew what was happening and there was nothing more that could be done. The heavens were clear and you had heard of this happening before. If a guard fell in love with a mortal, who in turn fell in love with them, the heavens would decide if the union should live or die, dependent usually on the mortal and as long as the two remained in love, the guard was doomed to perish slowly. You’d told Tony this story many times, reminding him that one day your judgement day would be coming but you hadn’t thought it would be today. 

“No, no, no, no, they can’t, they can’t take you from me,” Tony sounded desperate, though you could no longer focus on his face. Blood was roaring in your ears and you could feel its heat against your shoulders, seeping into the fabric of your sweater and you groaned as the feeling knotting your stomach intensified. You looked up then, into Tony’s face, at the worry staining his features and you knew that if you went now, you would know only peace. But Tony would suffer, he would blame himself for your death and you would not allow that to sit on your conscience. 

“I don’t love you anymore,” Your voice was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard and he understood. Tony’s eyes filled with tears as he nodded and then, with a breath, he repeated what you had said. The pain stopped almost instantly, your body untensing and the blood flow slowed dramatically, enough so that you could hear your breathing again, wheezing breaths but no longer restricted. And with a soft sighing sound, you drifted upwards and into the light, fingers leaving Tony’s grip for the last time. And you didn’t, you’d meant what you said. Once, you’d loved Tony but you could not love someone who wouldn’t allow themselves to be helped. You only hoped that he would see why you did what you did, why you saved yourself. You hoped he would understand because in your heart, you’d never forget Tony and you hoped he’d never forget you.


	8. thor x reader - lil angst

“What were you the God of again?” Thor’s eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy pants as he gasped for air. You were still asleep, curled slightly into his side and his breathing began to even just upon seeing you. You’d died in too many of his dreams for him to believe you were completely unharmed, a tiny mortal with a fierceness and loyal drive that rivelled that of his mother’s. You seemed completely undisturbed, sleeping peacefully and he wondered if you were dreaming, the way your nose crinkled occasionally led him to believe that maybe you were. Were you dreaming of him? He hoped you were, he wished it to be a nice dream and then, with reluctant muscles, he sat up, letting the sheets pool at his hips before he stood and padded from the room. Thor didn’t look back in time to see your face scrunch, fingers searching the bed for Thor’s warmth and he didn’t hear the soft whimper that left your mouth as you came up empty, instead turning over to hug your knees to your chest like a child. 

Hela haunted Thor’s dreams. His sister, his blood and the reason for the terrible anxiety that he tried desperately to keep contained. Loki’s death also plagued him, the unsettled feeling in his stomach that the worst was yet to come made sleeping difficult. You were his only Eden, his only escape from the harshness of reality. He missed the bed already, missed the comfort of your arms, your heartbeat, the warmth that surrounded you in a flower-scented haze. 

You were possibly the most curious creature he’d met in the nine realms. You had this infinite personality that he knew you were self-conscious of, but he found it refreshing and rather adorable, though he wouldn’t say that to you for fear of losing a finger. You weren’t a calm person, but you exuded a soft energy that people perceived as calm and thus, when he was around you, his heart rate settled and his nerves no longer felt fried. The truth was, the lightning in his veins made everything about his body and its functions different. Not bad different, he didn’t bleed energy but you’d described it once as that he smelled constantly of a storm, that humid, rain smell that brought thunder and lightning. He also found that his hair often stood on end and too many he’d zapped himself or another by accident, merely because of the electric currents searing through his veins. 

You had tried to work out the source of the lightning, whether it was an intrinsic part of him, or whether it came from another source and how it flowed through him akin to blood. You questioned things he hadn’t thought to question, things he took for granted. How did the lightning not scar him, not singe him, did his presence completely alter the weather pattern, no matter the climate he was in, because Asgard, she insisted, must have a different climate and weather patterns to Earth. It was odd for him, to have someone ask, for someone to care about those kinds of things, he’d always taken them more or less for granted but you were curious. You were interested and he was so taken aback by someone being interested in him that it almost confused him.

You woke sometime later, stretching out again in search but you already knew he was gone. He always was. Thor didn’t sleep like you did, his past and future haunted him and though you understood, because you were good and empathetic and kind, it made your gut twist whenever he left you to go sulk over a sunrise. You weren’t jealous as such, but you feared rejection more than you’d ever feared anything and this god, this beautiful creature who you so adored if he was to ever fall out of love with you, you were pretty sure it would destroy you. And when he went missing, it made you panic, it made your heart race and your palms sweat and everything in you make Kill Bill siren noises. But then he’d walk into the room, all 6ft 3 of him and your blood pressure would even out, the sirens would be replaced by angel choirs singing and suddenly you could breathe evenly again. 

You disliked your overwhelming desire for companionship, citing it as needy and jealous behaviour and you knew Thor would never actively try to hurt you, that you were at least aware of. He had a gentle soul, a righteous, adventurer soul that you had loved from the beginning but that thought of him having to leave you, it made you want to curl up somewhere warm and cry. 

Then he’s there, his arms warm and strong as they fold you into his chest and for a moment, you do cry, tears staining his shirt with dark marks and for a selfish minute, you allow yourself to be in his arms, safe and snug before you look up at him. His face is gentle, but weathered. He has seen more, survived more, than you will in your lifetime. You both struggle separately though, he tries to brave through it and you dislike bringing up things that make you anxious, as it increases your anxiety.

“Nothing worries me more than you looking like you’ve lost everything you ever wanted in the world,” Thor speaks into your hair, an almost ticklish action that makes you smile faintly.

“I didn’t know you felt like that,” You murmur into his chest and you feel it rumble with laughter.

“Maybe you should listen next time, I often wake up distressed, yelling out and you’re the only thing that can calm me down,” Warmth lights your belly as a pleased feeling spreads through you. It is pride that surges through you, mixed with delight and love for him that feels like it could set you alight as it washes through you. 

And that’s how the two of you remain, cocooned in one another, both anxious for the future, but somewhat content in the presence and you know that as long as you have Thor, you’ll be okay. Whatever your version of okay is.


	9. peter parker x reader - dancing with our hands tied

Before he disappeared into space, Peter Parker had fallen in love. You weren’t entirely sure if it was with you, or if it was with being able to be himself intrinsically when he was with you, but needless to say, you were happy both ways. You wanted him to be happy. Because you had loved him first but he didn’t know that. And he didn’t need to.

In your heart of hearts, you knew that he knew, but you were content lounging in oblivion. Not acknowledging your feelings grounded you, it made you feel on top of your life and like nothing could get in your way. You’d felt like that for most of your life, your defense system thorough and based on ignorance and you’d always been okay, you’d never had your heart broken and you’d never allowed yourself to suffer because of another person. Until someone in love with you and through them, you had fallen in love with yourself. You had started your life hidden, sheltering your feelings, your heart, your core and then he’d come along, him with his soft hands and gentle eyes and that wickedly sweet smile that made something in your chest unfurl until it burned against your skin. 

Peter had held you tightly, in that way people hold babies and shopping bags with eggs in them, his fingers always having to be resting on your shoulder or your thigh, not in a possessive motion but in a ‘I need you within reach,’ kind of notion. You’d known Peter for a while, since the two of you started at Midtown in the same year and you’d heard about him through his alleged nickname, Penis Parker and though that at first, had been what kept you from immediately gelling to him. Flash had been incandescent, your first friend at Midtown and your first enemy. He’d tried to kiss you at one of Liz Allen’s house parties, owing his sudden interest the following day to alcohol you knew he hadn’t consumed. He hadn’t backed off when you’d told him to stick it, only after MJ had attempted to beat his ass and you’d actually put him on his ass, did he run. Flash, to this day, would still call you a crazy bitch whenever he saw you, when he was protected or you were alone, but you knew he feared you now, in a way that made you smile with a cruel gleefulness.

Then you’d met Peter, really met him, after he stopped being nervous of Flash’s previous omnipresence and you two had become easy friends. He had always been sweet in nature, friendly and open and it wasn’t long before you were sneaking kisses in the science lab after school had been let out and spending all the time that you could wrapped up in each other’s presence. There was a deep sadness to Peter however, a sadness that no matter how much love you showered him with, you could never truly drive back. It clung to him, like a heavy cloud and rarely did you feel its cool fingers depart. Sometimes you wondered if it had actually been your own cloud, hanging just out of reach but it couldn’t have been, because soon after, you found the source behind the cloud.

The day the cloud lifted was the day Peter found out you knew he was Spiderman. You’d been in his room, spinning too and fro’ on his spinny chair, your hair up to let the cool evening air caress your neck. You’d known for a while, the web fluid hidden in his bottom door had been the first indicator, once you established it wasn’t something more concerning, the bruising up his sides that seemed to have come from nowhere had been another clue. The way he tensed when people talked about knowing Spiderman’s identity, the way his jaw set when people bad mouthed Tony Stark; the way his fingers seemed to catch on everything and everyone and the startled way he often vanished before Spiderman swooped past. And you’d known. You hadn’t cared. You understood why he’d kept it a secret, whether for his own sake or Tony Stark’s, it wasn’t your business. You didn’t pry and he in turn didn’t snoop on your familial issues or your often destructive nature. It had been after a fight with said family that you’d ended up at his house, May had let you in with a warm hug that lasted almost too long, making you wonder just how much she knew about the situation, before she’d pressed some leftover Thai food into your hands, telling you it was fine if you wanted to eat it in the bedroom while you waited but to be careful, she didn’t want garlic sauce in the rugs.

You’d nearly spilt it everywhere when the window had closed with a snap and a swift flash had entered the room before with a heavy thump, a body clad in red and blue had fallen to the floor. You had swore, aggressively enough that Aunt May had called out to ask if you were alright to which, upon recognising the red and blue clad figure, had responded yes and that Peter had snuck up on you and given you a near heart attack. All the while your eyes narrowed in on the familiar face and the unfamiliar costume.

“So the Stark internship huh? I worried about those bruises and where they came from for quite a while, because it didn’t make sense. Tony wouldn’t put you in danger, not if he didn’t have to and then footage came out of Spiderman in that airport in Germany. If I ever meet Captain America, I’m gonna put him on his ass for dropping that gangway on you,” You’d hugged him tightly, ignoring the strange itch of the suit as you’d put your arms around him, clinging to Peter as though he was the only thing holding you up. His arms descended and his head moved to rest on top of your own. The two of you had stayed like that for a while, just holding each other until Aunt May had knocked and Peter, like a startled squirrel, had practically backflipped into his closet. 

From then on, it had been complete transparency between the two of you, as much as he was allowed and that was it. You worried, yes, but you knew Peter could take care of himself. You had fallen in love with him quicker than you’d ever admit, his very smile made you feel warm and real, the way he held you made you feel both like the fragilest creature and also like one made of vibranium. His kisses were sugar and his laughter music and like any good fairytale princess, you’d fallen for the sweet prince who had good woven into his DNA.

That was, until he disappeared off of a bus on a fieldtrip. And now as you sat on his empty bed, listening to Aunt May talking rapid fire Italian on the phone, for a moment, you could almost feel Peter beside you. Your fingers stretched out into the air, though it remained empty no matter how hard you wished. With a resigned sigh, you behind to lower your hand before sudden a strange tingling engulfed your fingers. Your heart skipped as your eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for Peter, his soft face and his hair and gentle eyes. Then you caught sight of your hand, still out stretched but something was very wrong. Flakes of skin, like tiny gossamer butterflies were peeling from your fingers, which were vanishing as the flakes soared up into the air, caught by the breeze coming in through the open window. And for a moment, you swore you could hear Peter in your ear, telling you it was going to be okay as your arms began to vanish, that you were going to be okay as everything began to dark and that he’d see you soon as you closed your eyes, falling backwards though you did not hit anything, you merely plunged into the abyss.


	10. steve rogers x reader - home

“You know, if you asked Kristen out, from Statistics, she’d probably say yes,” There was a teasing note to Nat’s voice as she flicked her hair out of her line of sight, eyes moving to rest on Steve with a brightness glittering within their usual steel. 

“That’s why I don’t ask,” Steve was quite aware of how his stance reflected his mood, choosing to uncross his arms so that he appeared less reproachful, Natasha was the sort to notice such things and he disliked appearing colder than he wanted to be. He knew where this conversation was going, Nat was often attempting to hook him up with someone from SHIELD, it was easier than not as they were not exactly civilians and they were able to be privy to missions, which meant less unexplained absences. 

“Too shy, or too scared?” The teasing note had risen to reveal a smirk that perched on Nat’s glossy lips with ease, she was studying him again and he felt her silent judgment as though she’d actually made contact to him. He squared his shoulders again, not quite uncomfortable but he disliked where this conversation was headed. Nat wasn’t trying to be pushy, she was more joking than not but Steve was not exactly in a trifling mood, preparing to board an enemy ship was not exactly prime time to be considering his options date-wise.

“Too busy,” He was very aware of the dry tone seeping into his voice, not quite reproachful but just enough that Nat almost conceded, before she seemed to get a wicked thought, her mouth curving almost conspiratorially and his stomach tightened almost concernedly. 

“What about that girl from Int-Div, y/n? She’s a gentle soul, got a studio in Brooklyn and has that kinda smile that makes your heart melt,” Steve grimaced, though his mind did find itself wandering to the only person he would never have pictured caught within the net of SHIELD. Doe eyes, gentle smile and an impressive roundhouse kick, y/n was one of the few people that Steve believed could actually understand him, though often he struggled with that himself. What Nat was seemingly unaware of, was how close he and y/n actually were and that Nat was not privy to. For a breath, he was engrossed in the sharp recall of moments he’d spent with the elusive phonologist, cafes, bars and restaurants all of which all he could remember from them was her smile and the way her eyes danced when she laughed. That was something about y/n that always took him back, back to warmer days and places splashed with sunlight, furry bumblebees and sea salt, something he’d only really experienced through movies and now, when Nat decided he needed an excursion of a kind, a break from the automacy of being Captain America.

There was something about y/n that drew him in from the start, she seemed such a regular person when he’d first encountered her, a casual collision in a hallway and as he’d helped retrieve the three slightly worse for wear peaches, that she’d been smuggling back to her desk, he’d noticed how her face changed when she’d smiled at him. The almost steely expression she often wore, paired with that calculating gaze and the slightly hitched lip, giving the appearance of a sneer was what really what dragged him closer and the smile, the sweet, easy grace was what truly ensnared him. She was equally beautiful smiling and snarling, Steve found her rather beguiling no matter her expression and had tentatively questioned her, trying to get a feel for how she was relationship wise, as well as trying to determine what kind of personality lingered behind the alluring eyes. She’d agreed to coffee, though he soon found out she didn’t actually drink the stuff, preferring novelty Starbucks drinks or hot chocolates, usually with something other than actual milk, which Steve found curious as he’d never heard of coconut milk being used in anything other than food. 

She said his name with a strange fondness that stuck with him. To her, he was no longer just the vessel that was Captain America, he was real and tangible and he was Steve, he was old Steve and new Steve all at once, Bucky’s Steve and y/n’s Steve and the Avengers’ Steve all at the same time until she pulled back the layers to reveal the kaleidoscope that was her own Steve. Sometimes she called him Stevie, when she was sleepy and her eyes were barely opening as he left too early in the morning for her liking, his mouth brushing hers faintly in goodbye as she grumbled sleepily for him to stay a little longer. Then there was when she cried his name, amongst other things, as their bodies collided, two entities as one and she was warm and real beneath his fingertips as his mind slipped, until she drew him back, tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him with a fierceness that never failed to surprise him. Without another thought, Steve jumped, plunging into the darkness towards the ship, the wind whipping all thoughts of y/n from his mind, for the time being in the very least.

It was later, after his argument with Fury that he sought her out. The phone Fury had supplied him with held only several numbers and y/n’s was the only one he frequently used as she was often rather elusive, to the point that he pretty much had to plan quite a while in advance, knowing that though she would show up to work, otherwise she was nearly entirely off grid. Her apartment was scarcely lit, as usual, but he knew that was due to her preferring candlelight in the late evening as she read out the back, under the stars with a blanket sprawled over her and her hair up, several loose curls sweeping the back of her neck. When he slipped into her apartment, leaving his key in the door, he could hear her music playing faintly. Whimsical notes that she attempted to introduce him to, a singer who combined elements of his time with modernity and he decidedly liked Lana del Rey more than he let on, knowing y/n would tease him as in the beginning, he’d been quite resistant.

She was in her usual seat, wearing a sweater with a low back that showed off the gorgeous sweep of her spine and he groaned quietly, alerting her to his presence and she shifted, book closing as her eyes found his.

“Steve!” The joy that splashed her features was palpable as she stood, book discarded as she slipped into his arms, her smaller frame fitting snugly against him. Steve pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead as she hugged him to her, before she released him and stretched up on her toes to kiss his mouth, a gentle kiss and he felt her energy shifting as the kiss changed to a more passionate one, her mouth urgent as his hand cupped her jaw, his other falling low on her bare back. When they broke apart, Steve found he had to take several deep breaths to settle his breathing back to usual and she was more flushed than usual, her mouth still open just slightly and he fought the urge to kiss her again, knowing where it would lead and he wanted to talk with her before the inevitable happened, as it always did and after that, the only talking that would happen would be of the future and he needed to talk to her about the past.

“Did you know about Nat’s true mission?” The almost accusation that seeped into his voice made her eyes narrow but she didn’t shy back from his words, her posture unchanging. She was slightly more rigid however, than she had been a moment ago and he could see that she was thinking, her mouth quirking slightly further up than usual and he folded his arms, placing them like a barrier between them. She shifted, noticing his change in posture and her eyebrows jumped briefly, not enough for it to be obvious but he saw her expression change.

“No, I wasn’t privy to Agent’s Romanoff’s schedule, however I was aware of what needed retrieving aboard the vessel,” Steve’s knuckles whitened and his jaw clenched faintly, his eyes finding hers briefly, though he found nothing but her usual calm within her gentle gaze. She hadn’t been aware of the circumstances surrounding the mission, that much was clear, though he knew she’d worked with Fury extensively on the deployment of agents to snoop out the vessel, several of whom hadn’t returned. Steve remembered the way she’d cried in the bathtub, her tears lost amongst the bubbles and he’d wondered how she did what she did everyday if she felt this strongly about losing agents that she didn’t know. Of course he understood how heartless that made him sound, they didn’t trade lives but still, those agents knew what they were getting themselves into, they understood sacrifice and sometimes, Steve wondered if y/n was too good, too gentle for her work. Then he’d seen her in action and decided that no, she was not too gentle for the work but she allowed herself to be emotionally attached to said work, which led him to discover that she’d been friends with one of the disappeared agents which more or less explained the guilt.

“I’m not trying to accuse you, I was blindsided and I just had to ask you, to make sure you weren’t part of it, I’m sorry,” There was something like helplessness, an apology lingering in his voice and she dismissed it, flashing outward palms to signify she wasn’t upset by his line of questioning, though the steel that was y/n’s mouth did not budge. Her posture had changed again to match his own and Steve felt another trickle of yearning, whether it was to touch her or simply to make her understand why he was reacting as he was.

Her eyes were shards of sea glass, cold and unyielding as she turned back towards the back door, showing him her back as she slipped into the darkness of her porch. He remained in his place for a moment, shoulders tight and jaw clenched just enough that his teeth began to grumble. The porch light flashed on, illuminating y/n in a new position, back curved as she lay on her stomach on the couch, the book splayed back open and he groaned quietly before he followed her outside on quiet feet. She didn’t look up as he sat, the couch dipping beneath his weight but he did notice she leaned into him slightly and she didn’t protest when he drew light fingers down her bare back, encouraging a slow shiver from her to no other reaction. It was when he began to press gentle kisses to the ridges of her spine that he finally got an eyeballing, she lowered ‘A Discovery of Witches,’ with something akin to lust beginning to reveal itself within her expression. 

“You’re not off the hook, but for now, I guess we can pretend you are,” And then she was in his arms and they weren’t the only thing full, his heart feeling suddenly as though it was weightless but also heavy and Steve let her pull him into another dimension, where he was no longer Captain America and he didn’t have to save the world and where he was just Steve.


End file.
